Life Slips By
by Darcy Falls
Summary: Two complete strangers tragically collide, the death of one means life for the other. A celebration of new life entwined with the guilt of sacrifice starts the whirlwind of an adventurous affair.
1. Chapter 1

The tale that I tell just couldn't be simpler,  
Enter the librarian and the stripper.  
He yearned for a day more nine to five,  
She dreamt one day of coming alive.  
Twas one night their paths did meet,  
They collided together in the street.  
Bloodied and broken she muffles a cry,  
They turn to each other and whisper goodbye.  
Tears they fell from her hospital bed,  
When news proclaimed the man was dead.  
It was then she knew her life would start.  
Cos inside her chest lay his heart. 

"Bella darling you don't have to do this" 

"Mom, please ..." 

Inside I was a bundle of nerves, my tummy twisted at the mere thought of how my day would unfold, and truth be told I had no idea if my presence was even going to be welcomed, should I stay in the shadows? The fear had gripped me and yet I felt compelled to be there, I had to do this and as much my mother protested in my heart I knew it was a a task that had to be done alone. I kissed her gently on the cheek as the cab blared from the street announcing its arrival as a flustered driver signalled in his own polite fashion for me to move my ass. 

"Have you took your meds?" 

"Mom stop fussing, I'm a big girl, yes yes I'm now a human tic tac machine, every pill popped, blood pressure recorded and yes I do have my pager and my bracelet is on ... see?" 

I shouldn't be hard on my mother, after all she has just had to deal with her daughter going through major heart surgery after smashing head long into a moving vehicle but she has wrapped me in cotton wool all my life and now as I take my first steps unafraid of the adventures of the future I have decided never to look back, never to shy away from the unknown, to just grab life and see where it takes me ...

After all, that would mean his death meant nothing! 

That poor man, that beautifully tragic poor man! 

Blood spattered viciously across the dashboard as the metal twisted and contorted infusing the bumpers of both vehicles until they welded together, the weight of both vehicles constricting caused the flipping of my car, the windscreen didn't shatter until my car finally found new ground, and it was then I saw him. He looked straight at me as he fumbled with the seat belt. The stench of the dripping gasolene consumed my lungs as thick warm blood coated my throat creating an asphyxiational reaction, wretching and gagging a need for survival washed over me, grabbing at the door I opened my mouth to scream for help but as I turned I saw the stranger again, it was as if he had given up hope, he calmly lay there inside his twisted wreck and as our eyes met there seemed like a glint of a smile as his angelic face blurred from my vision. My memory is still incredibly hazy due the trauma but the doctors have assured me that in time all will return, I hope so. There is a surety that cannot escape my soul, as he lay there with that crooked smile he silently mouthed the word "sorry" to me. 

The importance of his last minutes upon this earth sparked the beginning of mine, to forget would be such a tragedy, his gift of compassion forever placed within my chest shall beat triumphantly in his memory, he will never be forgotten and as each day unfolds I can only pray my traumatic amnesia lessens to allow me to truly understand what happened that fateful night. Sitting in the back of the cab I knew I had to do this, this stranger said sorry to me before he left this earth, and now I had to say thank you to him for allowing me a life he had been so cruelly denied. Clutching my basket of flowers I took a deep breath 

"The cemetery please"


	2. Chapter 2

Standing alone at the large metal gates of the cemetery, I watched in silence as the back of the cab disappeared from view, my stomach churned at the prospect of turning round and facing the quiet sedate scene of eternal rest, it was then I felt like a complete hypocrite and a barrage of questions flooded my mind.

_What was I doing?_

What if his family was here?

Could I really be that cold?

As his heart pounded within my chest, it only reminded me of the guilt that ran through my entire being, with each strong pulsation that thundered effortlessly enabling the hemoglobin to course through my veins, it echoed the traitorous feelings that ruled me from within. My legs felt like weighted lead as I faced the entrance. Reality had hit me hard; this heart that lay within me was once the treasured possession of someone who was a complete stranger to me ... But to his family he may have been the epicentre of their lives.

All I had was a name; it was all the hospital would reveal. So dryly, I swallowed back the nerves, put my head down, and made my way inside the domain of the graveyard. Eyeing each grave as I passed left me with mixed emotions. My hand gripped the handle of the flower-laden basket when I saw a group of mourners adorned in black leaning over a black, marble head stone. They seemed consumed with grief as they held onto each other. The oldest in the group began humming an air, my pace slowed as the rest of the group followed the older ladies lead and started singing their words of lament, it was then I seized my chance and quickly glanced at the epitaph, exhaling loudly. I was relieved it wasn't him though it was quickly followed by pangs of guilt.

_Oh my God am I really that glad it wasn't his burial site?_

Of course I wasn't, but the prospect of facing his family scared the crap out of me, what would they think? What would they say? Their reactions would be raw with the ever present pain of grief, but am I ready to face that? Here they are burying their lifeless loved one whilst his heart drummed from within me.

_This was a huge mistake, I really hadn't thought this through properly, I should just leave ..._

Yeah ... just leave!

To turn and walk away would bring unwanted attention so I decide to just follow the winding path and discreetly slip away, head bowed and quickening of step my plan was working out until the gold written letters on a simple carved stone glinted in my eyes ...

It was him!

No flowers had been laid ...

No notes of sorrow had been placed ...

It was a pitiful sight!

Tears welled up and fell freely as I gently touched his head stone, falling to my knees I sobbed for the longest time allowing my mind to wander and picture him lying there unable to move like he had done the night of the crash. My head rewound and I saw him again with blood trickling from his nose and lips, his head lay askew as his vehicle jack knifed rendering his mobility as he gazed in my direction, did he know his time was coming? Was he aware he was now the sacrificial lamb that gave up his life for me? Sadness consumed me as he had no one to mourn his passing. Placing the basket carefully beside his grave I placed my finger in the etchings of the gold written name who was my saviour ...

** HERE LIES EDWARD CULLEN.**


	3. Chapter 3

_The rain was slamming down around me as I scurried towards my little V.W. Soaked to the bone and fumbling for the key, my head is still reeling from the news I received of possibly being made Chief Librarian of The Ink Spot. To think I was ready to hand in the towel a few days ago, and now, it seems I may have the keys to THE biggest archival auditorium. This is big. Those keys unlock a world to the past, present and the future._

Chill Bella keep it together!  
_  
Slowly pulling out with only the relaxing, pure texture of Ellie Goulding for company, I have to put today's events behind me and focus on the drive home. The monsoon showed no signs of stopping, though I wasn't nervous as my little car had made this journey endless times. However, it did seem the unforgiving climate was testing my abilities a bit more tonight._

Why don't you be the sculptor and make me out of clay,  
Why don't you be the writer and ...

OH MY GOD ...

_Blinding lights are careering towards me with no signs of stopping_**_._**

_The screeches from the tyres sound like screams of a banshee, as she is readying herself for battle__**.**_

_Instinctively I veer to the left in a futile attempt to avoid a collision, but it's too late._

_Within a blink of an eye, the two vehicles meld upon impact as the earsplitting, contorted, metal __tango-with-fate begins. Binders and books fly around my head, my handbag begins to empty around me as the sense of being airborne takes over_.

_Everything from that moment on was in slow motion_.

_Lipstick_

_Sunglasses_

_Compact_

_Wallet_

_All float by my face as the carnage outside progressed._

This is it ...

_I'm going to die!_

_Turning my head, my vision is blurred by warm blood dripping from the dull impact of the flying debris_**_. _**_Body aching badly, hands shaking wildly, I find myself unable to move once the dance had desisted. The pressure of being flung into the passenger side of the car had left me unable to move._

_"HELP ..._

_HELP ME!_

_Please!_**_"  
_**  
_The silhouette of a man peered into the wreck__**. **__He stared for the longest time before placing a bloodied hand upon the shattered windscreen before turning and leaving me helpless and afraid with only the cool relaxing words of Ellie in my head._

You wait for a silence,  
I wait for words._  
_

_"NO,please come back, come back._**_"_**

The silent man returns.

"Thank you, I'm stuck please help"

_He has something in his hand, is he going to break the screen?_

"What the ...

_What are you doing?_

_No ..._

_NO ..._

_NOOOO!"  
_  
You change your position  
And you're changing me.  
Casting these shadows,  
Where they shouldn't be.

_With a swift movement of his hand, he reaches in and grabs my soaked blouse. Unable to move__**,**__ I'm horror-stricken as he pulls his fist back and punches hard into my chest. My screams are deafening as I look down and watch as he pulls out a bloody, un-beating heart. . My body is pinned to the driver's seat and all I can do is look up to see a crooked smile spread across_ _his face. The gruesome and inhumane cruelty has immobilized my basic motor skills; silence reigns, as I bear witness to the sight of blood and gore oozing from my empty chest cavity. A seizure of sorts possesses my inability to cry for help and all I can do is lay there muted by fear as the silent man motions with his fingers and shakes his head slowly, his lips part a little as he leans towards my face._

_" Little broken girl don't look so afraid,_

_This hearts is mine not yours to trade._

_I lie in the ground so silent and dead,_

_Wake up little girl your alone in your head."_

My screams fill my bedroom as I bolt upright in bed, grabbing and clawing in a frenzied state at the sweat soaked nightshirt my trembling fingers brush over my scar; my nightmare was so vivid; so real to the point of insanity. I am an emotional wreck, plagued only by the fact that I survived.

I survived ...

I SURVIVED? ...


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you Fran, your keen eye to structure and detail is impeccable and I am eternally grateful for your patience. **

The next morning feels like a blur; it's a continuum of irrationality. Clusters of thoughts elucidating my night terror only led me to the fact that either I was suffering irrationally over Edward's sacrifice, or my brain was struggling with posttraumatic retention— meaning I was recapping his last, vital moments before the light left his eyes. Whatever the culpable explanation might be, I find myself hastily downing my breakfast in order to catch the cab which had just been ordered.  
It is such a beautiful day; the garden is in full bloom in appreciation of the rays exuding from the rarely seen fireball in the sky. I reach down and scoop up a range of multi coloured flora, quickly placing them in a small wicker basket and throwing my cardigan over my smuggled cache before my mother's watchful eye detects my little white lie about visiting the local museum. I hate deceiving her, but after last night's dinner conversation where she voiced her opinions of worry over me visiting Edward's grave, her proclamations didn't go unheard but I still feel compelled to pay homage once more.

"Hello Edward"

Bending down and gently touching his headstone, I place the stolen blooms alongside the flowers from my previous visit. I find myself inclined to ask how he is even though that obligatory line has no bearing, nor shouldn't be uttered considering his now recent departure from the human earth.

"I hope you don't mind me visiting you again, I didn't even introduce myself the other day. My name is Bella Swan."

Sitting quietly I stare intently at those gold, gilt edged letters tattooed on the simple stone.

"Maybe you're wondering why I am here, maybe you already know, maybe ... just maybe your glad of the company ... Edward ... I err ... I don't even know if you prefer Edward or Mr. Cullen. I mean Edward would mean we were friends of sorts but Mr. Cullen sounds so formal, and after all, you have, in a sense ... given me your heart, I kind of feel validated in presuming Edward befits our current allegiance"

I am blushing profusely as the words leave my lips. Seeking distraction, I begin to arrange the flowers and ignore the fact I am failing disastrously. There is so much I want to say, but as I sit there struggling to find the continuity involved in opening up and actually finding my voice I just sit there with only the subtle tune of birdsong reverberating in the distance. The concept of one-sided conversation unnerves me. Instead of vocally finding resolution, I am appeased merely to sit alongside his headstone in the knowledge that my company would be comforting in some way.

Suddenly my train of thought becomes distracted by the familiar ringtone associated with my mother.

"Hi sweetie, hope your day's going well."

_If only she knew!  
_  
"Oh, hi Mom, yeah I'm good, I'm just having a coffee in the bistro."

_I am lying; I AM VISITING EDWARD'S GRAVE! Oh God I am a terrible daughter!  
_  
"Okay honey, will you be coming home soon? I think maybe you should."

_Oh no not now, I hadn't considered the fact I would need to carry on the ruse of falsely admitting where I actually was._

"In a little while Mom, it's such a beautiful day"

"No Bella, come home now!"

_Her voice seems strained.  
_  
_Shit!  
_  
_She knows ...  
_  
"Mom, what's the matter?"

"Bella, there's been a rather strange development, there's a man kicking off down at the police station ... "

"Mom I don't understand why a man throwing a strop has anything to do with ..."

"Bella, he says he is Edward Cullen!"

**If you enjoyed this chapter please leave a review**

**- Darcy xx**


	5. Chapter 5

"Bella ... He says he is Edward Cullen"

The silence is deafening as my mother inhales sharply, the strain in her voice as she finishes the sentence is agonising to hear; I know only too well the journey she has had to suffer standing by the wayside, unable to help me; a spectator, helpless as I struggled with my ever-weakening heart. That's the reason she moved me back to Forks - to be near Charlie.

_Good old Chief Inspector Charlie Swan!  
_  
_A pillar in the community, best friend to all and all-round swell kind of guy ..._

However, to me, he was just Charlie; a shadow of forgotten childhood memories intertwined with an awkward exchange of words from time to time.

Apparently it wasn't always like this.

My mother has shared many memories of Charlie and me. She talks about beach trips, camping in the garden and mini road trips when I was little. Only they are not my memories ... They are hers. I cannot recollect anything that vaguely reflects her version. Sure, there are little flashes and flickers in my mind of my father, but nothing of importance, and certainly nothing nostalgic that I ever remembered.

" Are you sure that you heard it correctly, Mom?"

I don't know why I asked her that.

_It's obvious Charlie had called her. Only he would have that privileged information and the authority to share._  
_  
_" I'll meet you down the station, Bella, you can't do this alone!"  
_  
Which really means your dad will be there and I am coming to make sure there's an actual conversation.  
_  
" No ... Please I can do this."

_Love you dearly Mom but you have no idea how difficult it is around Charlie when you innocently (on purpose) try to create a talking point for me. I know you mean well, but it's hard enough dealing with the fact my father is a stoic, disobliging man, as well as feeling totally uncomfortable as you try to regale tales of love and unity when truthfully it couldn't be any more further from the truth  
_  
Ending the call before my mother has time to object to my solidarity, I suddenly realize more than ever that this man, who's lying a mere six feet from me has not only unknowingly saved my life but also been subjected to a fraudulent resting place. I feel a sickness twist in my gut at the thought of how I've called him Edward as I lay flowers ... thanking him, talking to him ...

The air around me thins as I struggle to breathe properly; my chest tightens and my throat feels restricted as I gasp and gulp, kneeling on all fours I feel the dizziness swim in my head as my ears burn out the sound of nature around me, my fingers and toes become numb and unsupportive. My arms give way and I lie helplessly face down on the grave of my unknown saviour. Before my eye lids close, I watch as the petals of scattered flowers dance on the wisps of the breeze.

"Are you okay Miss?"

"Missy can you hear me?"

I slowly stir to the voice of a prodding stranger.

"Take your time sweetie"

Shakily I turn and sit, dazed and confused as I struggle to remember what happened.

"I think you fainted there Missy, sorry for your loss ... was he someone special?"

Standing up and still bewildered I rub my forehead.

"What?"

"This young man ... was he your beloved?"

I panic and begin to walk away still hazy from collapsing

"No ...

No he,s ...

I mean ...

It's not him!"


	6. Chapter 6

Fraudulently steeling my composure, I take my first few steps from the concerned stranger.

I can't help experiencing the feeling of being hemmed in; a suffocation of sorts; as if the gated walls of the cemetery are closing in around me, ensuring I stand wholly accountable for my unforgivable remark.  
_  
It's not him ..._

A curtain of treacherous betrayal follows me through the winding path as I make haste towards the exit. It slowly meanders through each twist and turn until eventually creeping up and enveloping me fully, washing me with the guilt of denying this man, and the impact he had on my life.

Blurry eyed and still shaken from passing out, I whisper out in the hope of a little clemency.

"I didn't mean it like that, I ... I'm sorry"

The guilt I was harboring, was all my own creation. I had built up a wall of solace surrounding my saviour; a wall that allowed me the freedom to release my inner thoughts and feelings of negativity. It generated an elaborate sense of purpose in the travesty of that fateful night, where this young man lost his life and unwittingly permitted me to live mine. He had a name, a mark etched in gold signifying an acknowledgment, and at the very least he could be addressed as I lay my flowers at his alter.

Yet now ... that wall has been shattered with the knowledge that Edward Cullen was not lying in this cemetery.

He was but a mere, twenty minutes away at the local police station.

Alive.

And obviously enraged by this ghastly error of judgment that had been bequeathed upon him ... unlike the poor soul who lays stoically resigned, deep within the calm enclosure of eternal rest.

Passing through the massive metal gates, I inhale deeply and allow myself a brief respite in a bid to gather my thoughts before setting of in the direction of the station. I swallow hard and make a conscious decision to introduce myself, maybe even try to strike up a conversation, and share how this awful experience has affected the lives of three strangers in an odd kind of way. Of course, there's no denying the truth that the man lying in an unmarked grave, who is indeed the protagonist in this tragedy, will never be able to air his views.

_Hi there ... I'm Bella_

_(Too casual )_

_Mr. Cullen, please to meet you ..._

_Am I pleased to meet him?_

_I'm PLEASED to meet him?_

_What the fuck does that say about me?_

_May as well just high five the man adding Hey Eddy glad you're not dead ..._

_shit_

_shit_

_shit ..._

_Nope, face it Bella ... you're just going to have to wing it on this one._

Turning the corner into the car park of the local station, I'm met with the sight of a blacked-out SUV and the hustle and bustle of a small group of photographers.

It is there I stop in my tracks.

A young man exits the building flanked by what looks like two, burly body guards to a sea of flashing cameras and incoherent gabble of questions from the group in a desperate attempt to get his attention.

_Is that ... No ... Surely not_

As I step forward a little to get a closer look, I'm speechless.

The young man is bundled into the waiting car and driven off at great speed; it's clear the driver has no consideration for the safety of the bustling crowd gathered around the vehicle, flashing their cameras into the blacked-out windows. The car whizzes past me leaving the furor of the excited news reporters to gather their equipment and disperse.

Charlie comes out to meet me as I enter the station; he looks even more sombre than usual as he points towards his office and kindly opens the door.

"Bella you shouldn't be here, if that mob had realised who you were, they would've had a field day!"

"Who was ... I mean was that?"

My father sat in his chair and exhaled loudly. He looked older than when I had last seen him.

"That was Edward Mason ... i.e. Edward Cullen"

Charlie raised his hands, pettily displaying the exaggeration sign with his fingers as he finished his sentence, before ending with another sigh.

"What ... I don't understand ..."

Edward Mason is a big-time player on the party scene, a socialite, and filthy rich. His antics have caught the eye of the media in the past. They have glorified him to celebrity status of sorts. He's often seen in the most exclusive nightclubs with the latest top models or upcoming actresses, creating a media frenzy wherever he goes.

"Charlie what exactly is going on?"

"Your Edward Cullen is none other than a body-double for the elusive Mr. Mason ... His real name was James Witherdale, a two-bit stripper who resembled Mason. He was on his payroll to draw the media attention away from whatever that spoiled man was up to ... His lawyer is coming in soon to clear this up ... You really shouldn't be here Bells ... "

"But ... "

"Go home Bella!"

I am furious with Charlie right now and storm out his office, ceremoniously slamming his door for the full affect.

"Oh, Miss Swan."

I turned to see one of the suited security that flanked Mr Mason as he left earlier. He motioned for me to come closer, leaning over and producing a card, which he placed it in my hand before whispering ...

" Mason would really like to meet the girl he gave his heart to."


End file.
